Fumbling to Happiness
by mskathy
Summary: ON HIATUS Bella is a single mom whose first grader, Rose, is being picked on by Emmett. When she meets and gets to know Emmett's dad, what she finds surprises her. Will be expanded eventually. AU-H, Lemons
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Much love and thanks to Siouxchef, Kimpy0464, and The Unnamed One for helping me smooth this out. **

**All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is all mine. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.**

**~o~**

Another bullshit meeting with the school.

This time, the principal, school psychologist and the other parents had been "invited," per the email. As I confirm the time on my phone, I walk into the building. I'm standing tall and confident. I've got my best power suit on. Now is not the time to lose my nerve. I'm standing up for my kid, and this is where it really matters.

I can hardly believe I'm even here. Why the school hasn't kicked this little asshole out is just beyond me. I walk in and smile at the receptionist. _Great, she knows me on sight now._ She tells me to have a seat, so I do. I check my email, check my Twitter, check anything to keep my mind from racing and making me want to pummel a certain 7 year old.

Finally, Mrs. Snarky walks out and waves me in. I'm confused. _Where are the other parents?_ As I walk in and sit in her office, my familiar spot left open for me, I see him. Along with the usual suspects, there's a very hot gentleman sitting at the table. He's gone just a little grey at the temples and I notice the fine lines around his tired eyes as they crease with his smile in greeting. He extends and hand to me and I look at Mrs. Snarky.

"Ms. Swan, this is Mr. Cullen."

I shake his hand, even though I want to fucking deck him now, knowing who he is. This is the father of the asshole who has teased my daughter over the last six months of school. I hadn't recognized him because his kid gets picked up by the nanny on the regular. I don't think I've seen a parent pick him up, ever. Sometimes an older woman picks him up, and I've heard his kid call her Grandma.

We all sit and discuss the children, the reason we're here. I find myself looking at him, staring perhaps. If he wasn't such a shitty father, I might find him attractive. I wonder where his wife is, noting that he's wearing a modest gold wedding band. I'm snapped out of my thoughts by Dr. Caresalot.

"Ms. Swan?"

"Hmm?"

My attention turns to her and I smile a genuine smile. She has helped Rose more in the last three months than anyone else in the last three years I've been sending her to this school.

"The school is going to put Emmett on another home note program, and we'll keep an eye on how things progress."

_Are they fucking kidding me?_

The expression on my face turns cold and I can see a glint of fear in Dr. Caresalot's eyes.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Ms. Swan, we're really doing the best th-" Principal Snarky begins.

I put my hand up to stop her.

"I don't want to hear it." I turn to Mister Fucking Cullen. "Why can't you control your kid? I mean, what the hell is going on that he relentlessly picks on Rose? You need to teach that kid some compassion. Where is your wife, anyway? Couldn't send the nanny to handle this chore? Doesn't she care enough to be here to deal with her son, or is she too busy, like the other moms in this Stepford town?"

Mister Fucking Cullen looks appropriately shell shocked. I'm proud of myself for standing up for Rose. She doesn't need this, not with the year we've had.

I'm glaring at him now, waiting expectantly for his pansy-ass explanation of perhaps how his wife is off at the spa. Maybe she's getting a little nip and tuck. Date with her lover? All of these scenarios flash through my mind, as I hear a collective gasp from the other attendants of the meeting.

My eyes dart around to each of them, a look of horror on their faces. Dr. Caresalot now has her arm around Fucking Cullen and I arch an eyebrow at them. Sure, I'm being a bitch, but I'm not backing down from this one.

Cullen's face morphs from complete shock, to grief, and then to outrageous anger in about two point five seconds. His fist hits the table loudly and he shrugs off Caresalot's arm.

"If you must fucking know, Ms. Swan, my wife is dead. I'm sorry that Emmett is having some trouble dealing with things. I'm doing the best I can to handle him with the resources I have. What's your excuse for being such a bitchy shrew?"

I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole. I want to run back home, grab a pint of ice cream and hide under the covers. I want to be anywhere except right here in this moment, where I have clearly made a complete and utter ass of myself.

Instead, I puff up my chest just a little, _to reinforce how serious I am,_ and let him have it again.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Cullen. I assumed from the wedding band on your left hand that you were married. I apologize for your circumstances, but that certainly doesn't excuse Emmett's behavior."

We go around and around for a few more minutes, until everyone is sufficiently mentally exhausted. I agree to the damn home note, because unfortunately, I have no other choice. I take Rose home, give her dinner and a bath, then cry myself to sleep, realizing that I'm lucky to at least have an ex-spouse to sometimes give me a break.

_I really am a bitchy shrew sometimes._

I see the nanny at pickup for the next few days, and then suddenly, Mister Fucking Cullen is there. I panic. I'm always at pickup and half the time, I'm there from work, so I look moderately decent. This time, I've come straight from the gym. I'm in a stretch tank top and yoga pants. Not that I did yoga, of course, but what-the-fuck-ever. My hair is in a ponytail and I try to tuck some of the loose strands in before I walk out to the sidewalk where the kids come out at. I stand away from the Nanny Brigade, needing quiet to compose my thoughts. I want to apologize to him, I'm just not sure how.

He must have seen me approaching and I notice that he's looking around nervously. _What the fuck? Does this asshole not even know how pickup goes? _Christ, I can't shut the shrew off for even five minutes, can I? Am I so jaded from my marriage, which frankly was doomed from the start, that I can't even go outside my comfort zone to help a widowed dad?

"Mr. Cullen," I greet him with a nod. He responds with a grunt, not even bothering to turn and look at me.

I'm sure he can see me in the school windows, which reflect everything, it feels like sometimes. I never feel quite as naked and exposed as I do at pick-up time. Here is where people observe me, and only me, picking up my child. I wear no wedding ring, I never mention a husband, and I'm sure that by now most of them have heard The Shrew's story.

Mrs. Cuntywife walks up to Cullen and hugs him, pressing her obviously fake tits right up into his chest. _Could she be more obvious?_

"Edward, how are you?" she asks as she pulls back. Her hands are still resting on his biceps though, and she looks like she might have a Big O just from squeezing them. He does have nice arms, I'll give her that. Especially in that dress shirt, with that tie. Yummy combination.

"I'm good." He lets out an exasperated sigh and I can tell he's anything but. It's full of pain and squashed feelings and _fuck me_, I just want to hug him myself now.

"How is Emmett doing?" Mrs. Cuntywife shoots a glare at me as she asks, confirming the Gossip Train has indeed cycled the story of our meeting.

Shifting my weight, I move slightly away from them. I curse the small area we have to pick our children up in, almost wishing I was a fucking nanny so I had a place to call my own. I could turn Stepford and join those hags in the shady corner, but then I'd require some silicone and scalpels, and just the reminder of blood makes me slightly queasy. _Of course, that might also be Cuntywife's perfume._

"Emmett's fine. As fine as he can be, you know."

Cuntywife leans up and pecks each of his cheeks in goodbye, being called over by another Stepford. I'm sure they have important PTA business to discuss. _Personal Trainer Affairs_, I mean. I snort as the thought passes through my mind and Fucking Cullen looks at me dead-on.

This is my chance.

I take a deep breath.

I open my mouth to speak.

I am knocked to the ground.

_What in the mother fuck?_

Rose, in her excitement to see me, has completely knocked me on my ass. I'm splayed out like a ragdoll on the cement sidewalk right in front of Cullen, who I notice is holding in a giggle. I narrow my eyes at him and set Rose back on her feet as I sit up. In a shocker move, Cullen walks around to face me and extends his hand to help me up. My eyebrows scrunch on my face, a habit I've tried to break myself of countless times, with zero success. I put my hand in his and he helps me stand effortlessly. I only looked at his biceps for half a second as they flexed, pulling me to my feet.

Mister Fucking Cullen stars in every naughty, nice, and in-between sex dream I have for the next week. He's not there to pick Emmett up again, even though I've done myself up to the nines most days, in the pathetic hopes he might show up.

His mother, however, is there more than usual. I learn that the older woman picking Emmett up from time-to-time is named Esme. She's Cullen's mother, and actually very nice. She dresses as if she's just stepped out of the Nordstrom Junior's department, but she always manages to pull it off flawlessly, and she's fun and easy to talk to. Her Baby Phat purses and newsboy hats do amuse me, though. She has a whimsical, carefree sense of style and although we talk about nothing of consequence, it certainly beats the shit out of talking to any of the Stepfords.

Finally, I've given up hope and gone to pickup in my sweats. The weather has turned, it's getting ready to snow, and I'm in a fucking mood. My ex is crying about child support, saying he has to go out of town this weekend with his new girlfriend and I just have nothing left for anyone.

This is, of course, the day Edward Fucking Cullen comes back to pick up his kid.

I yank my purse over and dig for gloss. The least I can do is have shiny lips, right? I find some old MAC at the bottom, in completely the wrong shade, but slap it on anyway. I'm a desperate woman.

I trot out of the car and over to the sidewalk. I take my place and stand next to him. When he addresses me, I pretend to be surprised.

"Oh, Mr. Cullen, I didn't see you there."

He tilts his head in what has to be the most easy and comfortable nod in the history of nods, and I wonder what the fuck he's taking. I need some of that.

"Mr. Cullen," I turn to speak to him genuinely now, trying my best to remember that his kid is a fucking asshole and keep my libido in check. "I'm sorry for the way I treated you the other day. I didn't know."

Cullen shrugs and sighs, shaking his head. He seems to struggle with the words he's looking for, then he turns to me and I see his face for what just might be the first time. I wonder if he's a model, seriously, because he is able to convey every emotion he must be feeling right in that moment, without a single god damned word. I'm nearly knocked over by the weight of the grief I see there.

"It's okay. You made me realize I was relying too heavily on the nanny for help, so it was a good thing. I can't be here every day, but I try to send my mother when I'm held up at work. She tells me she's been talking to you, actually. Thank you for that."

_Back up. Did Mister Fucking Cullen just thank me for talking to his mother?_

My eyebrows furrow again and he reaches out and touches them. _Touches. Them. _I briefly consider kneeing him in the groin for daring to touch me without at least buying me dinner first, but then I remember two things: first, it's been about five years since any man touched me, and second, it feels so nice and calming, this tiny, tiny thing he's doing to me.

"Did you just thank me for talking to your mom?"

He smoothes both sides of my neatly manicured eyebrows down before speaking again. Mister Edward Fucking Cullen is touching me, and this isn't the way I had been dreaming about, but I'll take it. _For now._

"Yeah. She used to own a dance studio. She's been lonely since she closed it. She loves to pick up Emmett when she can. She said you were the first person that ever spoke to her. Thank you."

Edward had shifted his head as he spoke, looking into my eyes. I had to figure out some way to extend my time with him. I had no fucking clue why, but I wanted him in the worst way.

"You're welcome, Mr. Cullen. I really enjoy her, actually. She's a hoot. People are usually afraid to be who they are, but she seems so comfortable just living her life."

He nods and looks down at the ground, making patterns on the sidewalk with his fancy Prada shoes.

"Actually, I was wondering about something." He looks back up at me. "What do you think about getting the kids together sometime to play? Maybe if we took them out of the competitive school environment, they'd relate to each other more. They obviously compete academically, but I've been trying to get Emmett to lay off Rose and I just can't seem to get him to refocus. I was thinking if they began to see each other as human beings instead of competition, they'd empathize more with each other and get along."

_Fucksticks._ That made perfect sense. My only regret was that I wasn't the one to extend the offer.

We arrange for a playdate at my house the following week and swap email addresses in case we need to change plans. The conversation is surreal and I pick up on some subtle flirting from Fucking Cullen. _Am I asleep? Is this another awesome sex dream?_

Of course the kids come running out just then, interrupting my train of thought before I get too close to Pervsville.

Rose and Emmett are locked in a heated debate as they walked out of the classroom. Rose is insisting that Emmett is lying, and Emmett looks like he's about to blow steam from his ears, as he charges up to his dad.

"Mr. Cullen," Rose begins, and I silently say a prayer that she's on her best behavior. "Emmett says he never sleeps. Is that true?"

I have to laugh. Rose and I have this conversation from time-to-time where she insists she doesn't need sleep. Now I get to watch another parent squirm and answer the same question. Edward turns to Emmett and gives him a stern look, so stern that it almost makes me flinch. He crouches down to look at him, their eyes level, then puts his hands on Emmett's shoulders.

"Emmett, what did I tell you about lying?"

Emmett looks mortified. His eyes go wide and it's the first glimpse I get of them being related, and it hits me. _Emmett looks way more like his mother._ I stand there, stunned, wondering how hard it must be for Cullen to look at what I assume is a very close resemblance to his dead wife on a daily basis.

"Rosalie Victoria, what have I told you about railroading people before?"

I'm being a little louder than normal, hoping this will help Emmett off the hook. I have no idea why, but I suddenly feel so bad for this little shit. _No idea my ass, Swan. You know why. Hot, single dad, who flirts with you and whom you completely misjudged._

I turn and look at the little shit in question.

"I'm so sorry, Emmett. I promise, Rose won't harass you again."

My hand slips into Rose's and we walk away, but not before I notice both boys' mouths wide open, gaping at us. I don't punish Rose when we get home, but I do reinforce the message of not hounding people. I'd never sell my kid down the river for a piece of ass, not even hot Cullen ass.

The next few days pass much the same, with a few noticeable differences. Edward's mom Esme comes to pick up Emmett every day. Gradually, Emmett is coming out of the classroom less and less with a scowl on his face, and more and more excited to see her.

It's a dark and cloudy day, I'm muttering obscenities under my breath as I pass the crossing guard. I'm bundled up to the high fucking heavens, looking like an obscene penguin of some sort, I'm sure. The winter jacket I have now is like ten sizes too big for me, but on my part time salary I just can't afford a new one yet. Thankfully James pays for Rose's tuition, or she would have been out of this swanky private school two years ago, when we divorced. Just as I'm lamenting in my brain about the state of my bank account, wondering what to make for dinner, and thinking about how I really need to set aside some cash to buy panties that aren't as holey as the priest at the church I haven't been to in seven years, I smell the most wonderful smell.

That smell is Edward. My brain does backflips and suddenly, the train to Pervsville is zooming at warp speed. I turn to my right, and sure enough, there he is next to me, keeping pace as I cross the parking lot.

"We still on for today?"

No joke, I'm glad we're walking so that I can disguise the weak-kneed moment I have as a stumble over invisible rocks. His arm shoots out to my elbow, helping to steady me, and it's like I'm drunk, or high. _I'm high on Mister Edward Fucking Cullen._

My brain finally returns to normal and I realize, today is our fucking playdate with the kids. _I'd like a playdate with him._ Shit, focus.

"Oh, well, uh."

I'm running through a visual of how I left the house this morning on the way to my dead-end job. There's nothing terribly out of place or messy, but the whole main floor could use a good once over. _Sort of like me._

Certain my eyes are glazing over with a mix of lust and confusion, I try as hard as I can to bring myself back into the moment and give him an actual answer.

"I sort of forgot. It's so fucking cold lately, I swear my brain is frozen."

He laughs and I want to throw him down and fuck him on the school lawn. _Swan, compose yourself. You're not a cat in heat. You have plenty of batteries. Get through the moment._

"I know what you mean. I hate the cold, too. All my family is here, though..." He sort of trails off and I see his breath in the air as he looks around awkwardly.

"It should be okay, though. Just don't drive too fast," I say with a laugh, because I'm such a dork like that. "Give me a five minute head start and we should be fine."

I nearly piss my pants as Emmett and Rose come out of the classroom _talking._ Not arguing, not debating, not fighting. They're talking. Edward and I exchange glances, his eyes telling me he's just as surprised.

On the ride home, I explain to Rose that we need to do our best three minute clean up around the main floor. Three because I now need two to brush my teeth and reapply my gloss. We get the random shit thrown around put back where it belongs and I even swipe a line of gloss on my lower lip before the doorbell rings.

Emmett tears in looking for Rose and they run upstairs to her room as Edward and I stand in the doorway and laugh.

"Do you want to just drop him off? I mean, it seems like things will be fine, there's no need for you to stay, if you have someplace to be."

He walks right up to me, almost-but-not-quite brushing against me, and proceeds to the living room.

"I have nowhere else I'd prefer to be."

Ready to drop my panties on the spot, I close and lock the door, wondering what the hell is going on here. Can he read my mind? Has he somehow seen my dreams? The tie he has on only fuels the panty-dropping urge, and as he walks in and takes his jacket off, his cologne wafts up to my nose again and I moan softly. I realize I must look like a complete fucking idiot, so I mask it as a coughing fit.

We sit on the couch after I make coffee and talk. For hours. Miraculously, the kids play together without a peep from either of them. They do their homework side-by-side in the kitchen, and then I offer to make dinner, but Edward insists on ordering a pizza. The kids go back upstairs to wait for dinner and Edward and I sit again, this time a little closer.

Suddenly, it dawns on me: I trust him.

Edward tells me about raising Emmett on his own. He lives with his parents, I discover, and I'm surprised. He's given his life up for Emmett - never dating, not advancing his career, because it would require the time and energy he cannot commit while still caring for his son. He works late some nights, but only when he knows Esme can be around to help.

He's told me about his wife. All about how Tanya took her own life during an obviously unsuccessful battle with postpartum. My brain tingles as he recounts the horrible days following Emmett's birth, and I cry. I cry, remembering what it was like for me. James was zero help, and I can't help but hope that Edward had been there for her. As we talk more and I share my story, he explains that he was there, he did get her help, but just when she seemed to be getting better, he found her.

We're sitting in this moment, Kleenex in one of my hands and his in my other. He's comforting me, _he's comforting me_, even after all he's been through. I'm not sure why or how, but he leans near me and his other hand moves to my cheek. He brushes my cheekbone and smiles.

"May I kiss you?"

_How fucking cute is that?_ I think, before I realize that I'm wasting precious time. I could be snogging the glorious dude in front of me, so I launch myself into his lap. Our lips are together before I can even take a breath and my hands weave into his hair, holding him right where I want him. His long fingers wrap around my body and he presses our torsos together. I have no time to even think before he moves a hand around to my breast and begins to touch me in a way that makes me want to get up and dance. _Except that would mean moving from his lap, and I don't plan to ever do that._

It's like I'm 17 and in the backseat of Jacob's car again, as we make out. His tongue slides into my mouth and I shift my hips on his lap, pleased to feel what seems like a rather impressive erection through his ultra-pressed metro pants. Edward leans back, taking me with him on the couch, and I'm vaguely aware that we're now on the train to Pervsville together, while our first graders play upstairs. Of course, then I remember it's been five fucking years, and I kiss him with renewed ferocity.

Edward's hands go to my ass, pulling me down to feel him more, and I groan. I want this man so much in this moment, I don't think I've ever wanted anyone as much before. He slips his warm hands beneath my shirt and is just beginning to unclasp my bra as the doorbell rings. It takes us both a minute to register the noise, but the clomping feet on the stairs snap us to reality instantly.

I sit up, smoothing my hair, my shirt, my fucking everything-I-can-think-of. Edward looks like he's cowering on the couch, hiding his _enjoyment_ of our activities and I throw him a wink. I get up, pay for the pizza and by then, he's safe to walk to the table, and joins us. Of course, he proceeds to rub my leg all through dinner, teasing me mercilessly, since I know this is going nowhere. He has to take his kid home and I have to tuck mine into bed.

Once the pizza is gone and Edward has stopped teasing me, we clean up the paper plates and call it a night. Edward and Emmett leave before I have a chance to freak out and wonder what the fuck we just did, and how we might have fucked up our kids' friendship when it was just beginning.

My night is full of hot, sweaty, lust-filled dreams of Edward and those hands. Edward and his mouth. Edward and what I'm sure is his beautiful cock. _Dear God, please don't let him have a gherkin dick._

I wake up horny, cursing my life. James never has to get up and take Rose to school. He gets to live a responsibility-free existence while I do everything I did when we were married, only without the benefit of two incomes. Once Rose has been dropped off at school, I go to the office and curse more. And then I see the email.

It's from Mister Fucking Edward Cullen, to me. The subject is "tonight". I'm suddenly glad it's Friday, thinking this might have potential to be something other than a red wine, chick flick, hot bath, vibrator sort of an evening for me.

I open the email, practically panting.

"Bella-

Thanks for having us over for the playdate yesterday. Emmett (and I) had a great time. Esme would love to watch Rose this evening for another playdate. I thought perhaps, if you weren't busy, you could come over for a playdate, too?"

Literally, I get up from my desk and shout. I squeal. I pump my fists in the air and give a few "woohoos" for good measure. _I'm getting laid. After five miserable, dry years, I'm getting laid._

I write him back immediately, not even wanting to risk him thinking I'll say anything but YES. I call Alice. She's a pro at flirting and will surely know exactly what to say. We hash out the details and I send my reply, hanging up with her to call my stylist. I need a wax job, and not just on my legs, pronto. I don't even fucking care in this moment if I lose my job for leaving to deal with personal business. Right now, Edward Fucking Cullen has taken priority over everything.

Miraculously, she's able to fit me in on my lunch hour, so I'm not going to be homeless just yet. The day flies by and I pick Rose up, chatting with Esme to finalize the details of the playdate. I have just enough time to go home and allow both of us to change, Rose out of her uniform and me out of my stodgy work power suit. I decide to put on something sexy, but not too sexy.

We've scheduled the playdate at five, Esme promising to feed the kids and let them watch a movie. It's not a school night, so I'm okay letting Rose stay up a little later than normal. I figure we have about five hours together, at most. I look at his address and map the directions as Rose and I rush out the door. She asks me several times why I'm so nervous, but I reassure her that it's just a deadline at work. I feel bad for lying, but what else am I supposed to tell my seven year old? _Don't worry honey, mommy's just nervous about fucking your former arch nemesis' dad._

My thoughts are consumed with Edward the entire drive, when suddenly I realize I'm in a very nice part of town. _Very_ nice. As we find the house, it occurs to me that Edward has invited me on a playdate at his house. Which is his parents' house.

Parking in the circular drive, I take a few deep breaths and compose myself. I've got on the sexiest bra and panty set that I own, thankfully not from Target. I'm wearing a dress and stockings held up by garters, but again, I'm covered in this fucking huge winter jacket, thanks to the snow. I can't decide what to be more nervous about, that I look like a whale, or that I'm all dressed up for a playdate at my potential boyfriend's parents' house?

There's no time for nerves as Rose bolts from the car, banging on the doorbell. Esme answers and waves us in, and suddenly I'm grateful for my jacket. I can hide behind it as long as I like, on the off chance that Edward is wearing sweats and I feel like a fucking idiot for going to all this trouble.

Rose and Emmett wander off to what Emmett calls "his wing" of the house and I glance around. How I hadn't noticed from the outside I can only blame on my preoccupation with myself, but now that I'm inside, I can see that this isn't a house - this is practically a mansion.

"Bella, can I get you a glass of wine?" Esme offers with a smile. "Edward is just over in his house, but I'm sure he'll be right in to get you." _His house?_ She sees my confusion and answers my unspoken question. "Oh, he lives in the guest house. Right out back, there." She points to a "guest house" that is easily bigger than my _real house _and suddenly I'm nervous again. _And the horny is back._

Here I thought I was going to neck with Edward in the basement and he has a little mini McMansion of his own.

I hear a door open and close and can smell him before I see him. _Edward._ I don't even realize I have a fucking mile-wide smile until he walks right up to me and leans down to speak in my ear.

"I'm glad to see you, too."

He places one soft kiss below my ear and I'm gone. Completely, entirely gone.

I start to babble about wine and Esme, but he just laughs and shakes his head, taking my hand in his. He pauses at Esme to kiss her cheek and whisper his thanks, and she winks at me as we wander off.

Edward squeezes my hand once we're out in the cold. It hasn't started to snow yet, but it will soon and I say a silent prayer that it just waits a few more hours.

We walk in the front door and I'm fucking floored. Literally. Edward has nearly attacked me in the entryway, sweeping me off my feet and onto the ground. I realize that I haven't even taken my jacket off, far too many clothes are in the way, and he's pawing at me, kissing me and touching me everywhere. He must be frustrated with the bulky piece of shit jacket too, because he drags the zipper down so fast, it breaks clean off and we both laugh.

He pushes the jacket open and looks at me like a starving man who has just been given his favorite meal. I squirm a little, his look of direct and undiluted lust making me nervous. I try to sit up and his body covers mine again. Edward is so full of need, and I wonder if he even realizes how long it's been for me, too. A fleeting thought races through my brain; _are we satisfying some crazy, long-building itch in each other, or is this something more? _

I can't even be bothered to care after he softly bites my nipple through my dress. I'm gone again, lost in a sea of lust. He's pushed me over the edge of need and I haven't even said hello to him. I worm my arms out of my jacket and his hands are beneath my dress. They're cold, having just walked in from the outside, but the contrast against my overheated skin is welcome and I suck in my breath. Edward is touching me, rubbing every inch of skin he can get his hands on, and then one of his hands leaves my body.

As I look down to figure out why, I can see that he's unbuttoning his pants already, and my head falls back on its own at the very thought. We're about to do very bad, very dirty things right in the entrance to his home. The door is locked, but where we are is exposed and it just makes the moment that much more exciting.

Edward kneels to push his pants down, not bothering to take them all the way off and I realize that I'm still essentially fully clothed as well. I hook my hands under my dress and pull my panties down, Edward eyeing me again. He strokes himself as he watches me, and I can't help but think how fucking hot he is. The girlie part of my brain wants to start analyzing, judging, and figuring out just what the fuck is going on here, but that bitch gets tossed aside the moment his body lays on top of mine again.

I can feel the fabric of my skirt at my hips, the heat of his legs against mine and then, blissfully, the hard length of him as he slides into me. He has been in my every thought for weeks and I don't even care that we're just fucking on the floor with practically zero foreplay - I'm going to assume he's been thinking a little about me, too, and let the show get started.

He's grunting and groaning as he thrusts into me, and I can hear myself responding to him, almost as if I'm having an out-of-body experience. Except, I really want to be _in_ my body experiencing this, so I force myself back to reality. Edward is fucking me in a way I've never been fucked before. It's frenzied and needy, but his lips are still all over me, reassuring me in some impossible way that he... _cares_? I remind myself, five long fucking years, and tilt my hips to meet his movements. My hand snakes down between us and he mutters a few expletives as he watches me touch myself, watches himself as he's fucking me.

I'm whimpering and moaning, the weeks of build-up and flirting all crashing down on me, and I close my eyes as I feel the beginning of my orgasm. He thrusts harder, faster, and I let go. It's no use anyway, I can't possibly hold on any longer. I scream, the moment overtaking me, as I feel my body react to his, my muscles contracting around him, encouraging him to do the same. Sure enough, his volume increases seconds later and he tenses above me, a slow chant of "fuck" making its way from his mouth.

Laughter bubbles up and out of me. The sheer fucking _joy_ at having just had one of the nicest and best orgasms ever, not just since my solo time began five years ago, but fucking e-ver, causes me to just go insanely giddy. I'm nervous, but can't hold it in, until I hear him laughing, too. It doesn't even matter why he's laughing – maybe he thinks my panties are funny, maybe it's the relief of it all for him, too... it just doesn't matter.

Edward partially collapses onto me, and we lay there together, panting, laughing, and sweating. I raise my knees to either side of him and my arms go around his waist, stroking softly up and down his back. Somehow, the moment transforms and I realize he's gone completely quiet and still.

I nudge his head with mine so that I can look at him, and go for an ice breaker.

"Can I assume it's okay to call you Edward now?"

He buries his face in my shoulder, half laughing, half groaning and nods yes.

"Are you okay, Edward?" I whisper, leaning up to kiss his mop of crazy hair.

"I just need a minute."

We lay there quietly. Outwardly quiet, at any rate. Inside, I'm now a jumbled mess, unable to keep the girlie side of me at bay. Every insecurity I've felt has risen to the surface and I'm wondering just how to extricate myself as delicately as possible from beneath Mister Edward Fucking Cullen, father of my kid's arch nemesis, whom I have just been fucked senseless by. Well, I'm wondering that and also how to get him to do it again.

As the contradictory thoughts wage their battle in my head, I refocus and notice Edward is kissing my decollete, apologizing.

"Edward? What are you apologizing for?"

He sits up, still between my knees, and strokes his hands down my thighs. _I'm ready for round two, _I do my best to convey with my eyes.

"I just... we just... that wasn't... but, then... Fuck."

He moves his eyes away from mine and over into the other room.

I sit up next to him, trying to make sense of what he's babbling about. I rest my hands on his bare thighs and try to get him to actually verbalize something that makes sense while not leaking … well, _leaking_ all over his lovely stone-tiled entrance. I squeeze his skin, an attempt to get him to look at me again.

Shaking his head, he laughs lightly. "I'm sorry, Bella. I had no intention of doing that, I swear. I just saw you, laughing and talking to my mom. It's been so long, and _fuck me_, you are so gorgeous."

He shifts his legs, trying to move and disguise the fact that he's getting hard again. What he fails to realize is, I like that fact.

"Edward, I hope you won't think less of me," I purr as I'm climbing into his lap, "if I tell you just how fucking hot that was." My hands wind around his neck and I'm kissing him softly, trying to convey to him just how much I appreciated that moment – even if it never goes beyond that. I needed it more than he can possibly know. To hear him call me gorgeous on top of it was simply the icing on the sex cake.

"You deserve so much more, though," he's mumbling between my lips. I laugh a loud, throaty laugh, tossing my head back again.

"Oh, Edward. Every woman deserves to be fucked like that, by you. What is it that you do for a living? You should consider a career change, whatever it is."

I realize just how slutty that sounds, and I try to backpeddle.

"Not that I'm all that interested in sharing you."

I run my nose up and down the length of his as I look into his eyes to see if he's feeling anything remotely like what I am. He smiles and his eyes crinkle, reminding me of the first time we met all those weeks ago.

Somehow, he stands up with me still in his arms, pants at his fucking ankles, and hobbles into the bedroom. By the time he lets go of me and I land on the bed, I'm laughing like a lunatic again. The sight of him walking with the fucking pants at his feet, even from my limited vantage point, has me in stitches.

I curl up on his bed and laugh as he toes off his shoes and then throws his pants toward a hamper on the other side of the room. His hands move to undo his tie and I bolt upright, shaking my head no.

"Mine."

Grabbing his tie, I pull him down to kiss me. I've always been a sucker for a guy in a tie and I'm not going to let this chance slip by me. James never wore ties, or dress shirts, or cologne for that matter. I remind myself to stop comparing and enjoy the hot man in front of me, again, as my fingers slip into the knot. His tie comes undone as he places a hand on either side of me, on the bed. I whip it from around his neck and grab his collar, pulling him back onto the bed with me.

I'm no dumbass. I know he won't be ready to go again for a bit, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the recovery time. We make out on his bed and his hands are everywhere, exactly as they were in some parts of my dream. When he moves his fingers lower, to rub my clit and slide into me, I gasp for breath. He's teased me perfectly and the fact that he doesn't care that his hands are now, well, _sullied_, has me nearly unglued. I'm almost embarrassed that I come in record speed, his mouth against my nipple as I scream.

"Jesus Christ, am I dreaming?"

Poor Edward doesn't realize I'm actually asking, and starts to chuckle beside me.

Once I catch my breath, I realize that I've turned into a panting, sweaty mess. There is no way this can be attractive anymore, but Edward's hands are still all over me. He's running lines up and down my body, swirling patterns and stopping to pinch and tease me randomly. I cringe when he traces over my thank-fucking-god-fading stretch marks, but he doesn't seem to notice or care.

I turn my head to look at him, feeling brave. I mean, I'm fully clothed still, _well, sans panties,_ but I feel... so... something I can't quite place.

"Hi," he whispers, a shit-eating grin on his face. I bury my head into his shoulder and move my body to curl up into his.

"How is it that I'm almost naked and you're still fully clothed?"

My body shakes with my laughs and I make no attempt to answer him. I'm too happy, too exhausted, too satisfied (yet strangely, still horny) to even think up a witty quip or comeback.

Edward wraps me in his arms and I weave my legs through his, bringing us close again. I almost fall asleep, the post-coital glow sucking me down into Sleepyland, but I feel him stir against me, and then his chest vibrates with his words.

"I could go for a shower," he offers. "Wanna come?"

_You have no idea, Edward Fucking Cullen._

I pull back and look up, then give him the best grin I can muster before rolling off the bed. He walks around to me and takes me in his arms again before saying the last fucking words I ever expected to hear from him in that moment.

"Are you going to break my heart?"

_What?_

"What?"

He lets me go and looks down at me, vulnerability clouding his face this time. He's softened, not just his lower half, but his entire demeanor. We're playing with each other like two carefree teenagers, but the reality is that we're both broken adults who have fucking kids to take care of. The whole implication of his words hits me like a ton of bricks, and then he repeats himself.

"Are you going to break my heart?"

"Not if I can help it. Are you going to break mine?"

It's taken every last molecule of courage to admit this vulnerability. I've spent the last two years building a shelter around everything that I am, trying to make life as good as possible for Rose, while pushing aside the fact that I'm also a person with needs. If I was being entirely honest, it started before that, too. It makes no sense to my brain that I'm admitting this to a near stranger, and there's almost a visual war raging in my head between my heart and my mind, but I need this so badly. Even if he's going to crush my heart into dust, the truth is, I _need_ this night.

He shakes his head no and brings his hands to my shoulders, pushing my dress down and off my body. He lets out an audible "mmph" as he soaks in my lingerie and I am once again thankful that I brought out the good stuff. Edward's hands are covering my body, touching me and worshipping me. He bends down to unclasp my stockings, then kisses a trail back up, his hands on the backs of my legs, and then squeezing my ass as he brings his lips to mine.

"I can't wait to get you in the shower," he mumbles.

_Okay,_ I'm thinking, _I like showers, too._ And then he takes my hand and leads me to what has to be the fucking biggest shower I've ever seen, and I make a note that the entire bathroom is huge. I flag this in my brain to come back to, as it strikes me that this is no average family with average wealth. I look around and take in the smooth, dark stones that make up the shower walls and floor, contrasting with the glass on one side where the door is. There are at least two shower heads _in the ceiling_, and I'm already confused as I look around at nozzles attached to the walls and dials I can't even begin to imagine how to use. I've honestly never seen a shower like it and now _I_ can't wait to get in.

The distraction of the shower is gone as I feel Edward's hands on me again, unclasping my bra and letting it fall to the ground. Tugging the garter belt off my body, he kisses my left and then right thigh, while I bite my lip to keep away the inane, self-deprecating cottage cheese jokes. His hands are trailing a line up my skin again and when he stands tall in front of me, I'm captivated and feeling defenseless. I do the only thing I can, which is reach out and unbutton his shirt, then push it off his shoulders. I lean into him and kiss his collarbones, closing my eyes.

_Take a risk,_ my heart says. _RUN!_, my brain says. But I know. I know I've already promised him that I won't break his heart, and as stupid as it might have been, I meant it.

Edward steps away from me and walks into the massive shower, pressing buttons and turning dials, a smug smile on his face the entire fucking time. Finally, he looks over at me and steps under the water. The glass is quickly steaming up and soon he'll be gone and out of my sight, but I take just a minute to watch. His muscles flex and move as he lets the water wash over him. He's no longer shy, erection standing loud and proud as he turns and gives me a view of his perfectly bite-worthy ass. _That's it. I'm only human, I can't take anymore._

I open the door and step in, the warm mist surrounding me. _Heaven. This shower is fucking heaven. _I wonder briefly if he'd mind my moving in here, but have no time to contemplate the exact methodology one uses to ask their new boyfriend if they can move into the shower, as he's already up next to me. His slick body is pressed against mine and I realize that he's pushing me under the water spray. He has the water set more warmly than I would at home, but it's nice. Soothing. Relaxing. I realize that maybe all these years I've kept the water too cool as I succumb to the heat and relax back against him.

His hands are roaming up my body, cupping my breasts as he teases my nipples to an ache. Edward is kissing my neck and I become aware of the fact that I'm rubbing against him. His body is angular but soft somehow, _perfect_. My head falls back to his shoulder as he continues to lavish attention to my breasts and neck, nipping now and then and making me moan.

With one last caress, he leaves my body and I wonder briefly if I will fall over without him behind me. He quickly appears in front of me. His mouth is on mine again, hands around to my bum and he's pushing me back. My eyes are closed I have no clue where he's directing me, nor do I particularly care, as long as he's there too. The stones beneath my feet are rounded and soft, but unique and something that brings my thoughts back to focusing. I feel something cool against the back of my knees and Edward whispers to me.

"Sit."

_I trust him_, I think again, as my body sinks at his command. My bottom is met with more stones and I set my hands on either side of me, feeling the curve of them under my fingertips. I briefly wonder if he's just asking me to sit so that I'm out of the way, but then he begins to kiss down my body. He's on his knees in front of me, between my own knees. He takes a nipple between his lips again and sucks it softly as his hand loves the other.

Edward's hands move to my legs and he spreads my knees further apart, pulling forward slightly to angle my body. The anticipation nearly kills me. It's been five years since I've had sex, but even longer since anyone's mouth has been near my lady bits. I'm trembling and aching with want even before he lands his first kiss, but once he does, I can't help it, a long, slow moan escapes. I feel the vibration of him laughing against me, and it drives me even more crazy.

He hitches my legs up and over his shoulders as he licks slowly from my opening to my clit. Just when I think I might die from pleasure, he wraps his lips around my clit, then lets go and repeats his actions. I can feel his nose against my skin as he's licking and kissing me, and I can already tell this is going to be another embarrassingly short moment. _I've got to build my endurance back up._

His hand moves to me and as I feel him slowly slip two fingers, I cry out. He presses his mouth to me harder and I must sound like a dying hyena with the sounds I'm making, but as he coaxes the third orgasm from my body, I decide to worry about being embarrassed later. He doesn't slow his movements and I whisper a thank you as he draws out my pleasure as long as possible.

When my body stops moving and reacting to his touches and kisses, he withdraws his fingers. I can hear him hum with pleasure as he stands in front of me, and then I see that he's just as hard as he had been before, when I watched him stroke himself. I lean forward to take him in my mouth and he closes his eyes as I slip my lips over and around him. He only lets me move up and down his thick cock a few times before he's pushing me back slightly. I'm no pro, but I'm sure I'm no slouch either, so I'm momentarily confused.

Edward sits on the bench next to me and then pats his lap. I admit, I'm glad we're getting round two in tonight. If I have to go home alone, I want to experience as much of him as I can before I do. I position my body over his, not taking him into me just yet. I kiss his chest, the fine hairs scattered around ticking my lips and nose. I lick and suck his nipples, gently nipping at them both. His eyes are closed and he's breathing heavily. His cock is periodically tapping my body and I groan with need. In trying to turn him on, I'm simply getting myself even more worked up and full of need for him.

I move his hands to my hips, then place one hand on the stone wall behind him and one between us to guide him into me. As I sink down, he lifts up, and I'm certain there's no better feeling in the world than being fucked by Edward Cullen. _Except, is this really "fucking" still? The guy did just ask you not to break his heart. _

He slouches slightly and then uses the new angle and leverage to lift again, hitting a new spot. I bring my feet to the bench, one on either side of his body, and we move together. His hands are still on my hips, holding me securely to him, so I move one to my clit and slowly rub in time with his thrusts. I'm finally feeling like my groove is back, no two minute orgasm is in the cards for me this time, and I rest in his arms and enjoy the moment.

The slow build is creeping over me as he continues to move in and out of me, but I miss him from this angle. I let go of my own body and wrap my hands around his neck, dropping my knees to either side of him as I pull my torso next to his. This is much better, the heat of his skin is back against me, his lips are on me in an instant. His hands have repositioned themselves and now one is on my ass and one is between us.

As he works my body, I'm panting at his ear, my mouth wrapping around his lobe periodically. I'm trying not to pass out, the pleasure overwhelming me in the moment. This is so different from anything I've experienced with anyone, from how we met, to how our bodies work together. I'm rolling my hips with his now, my entire body is shaking from the effort and energy, the need and pleasure. His fingertips roll over my clit a few more times and I rest my head on his shoulder, the climax rolling out of me in waves as I continue to move my body over his.

"Please," I whisper to him, somehow needing him to fall over with me. I realize that the act I used to find disgusting and messy with James has turned into something I crave with Edward.

Edward's knees are bouncing my body on his now and I'm so taken with the intensity of the moment, and his magical fingers that never stopped moving, that we both come again, together this time.

Our bodies slow together, and then stop. Neither of us has the energy to speak. So many words just passed between us in the form of kisses and touches. I'm sure ten minutes have gone by, and frankly, my skin is getting a little wrinkly, and my heart is getting a lot thuddy and worried at the silence. I breathe in a deep lung-filling breath and let it back out far louder than I intended.

"You okay?" Edward asks me, breaking the silence.

I hum and nod against him, suddenly feeling shy and insecure. The hard-as-nails exterior of Bella Swan has crumbled and I just want to live in this moment forever. I know that I can't, but that doesn't mean I don't want to.

We stand and wash each other, taking our time. We're both far too spent to even consider round three, _right now_. Edward turns the water and steamer thingies off, then walks out and hands me a robe. It's clearly a guy's robe, and I put it on and inhale his scent immediately. He rummages through a dresser and I look around, observing the details of his bedroom, now that I'm not entirely distracted by him. Before I have a chance to soak it all in, his hand is in mine and he's leading me somewhere else.

He turns and looks at me, smiling, and then he stops. We're in the hallway and I have no clue what we've stopped for, when he moves his body in front of mine, pressing me against the wall. There's no rush this time, just slow, casual, dare I say _lazy_ kisses. The kind that say "thank you," and don't need to rush because they know there are thousands more just like it behind them.

**A/N: If you enjoyed this story, leave me a little love. Also, this will be expanded, but not until after my four in-progress stories and Good Boy are done. Check my profile for up-to-date information about what I'm working on any given day. Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Endless thanks to Squalloogal, for purchasing this in the FGB auction. You guys get this chapter, plus chapter 3 of this story, thanks to Squally's generosity. **

**You've probably noticed that this story changed names. This is formerly Meet the Parents. Welcome to Fumbling to Happiness, the multi-chapter story name. Thank you to the 900 people I polled and pestered who helped me figure out the right new name. I hope you don't completely hate it.**

**Mucho besos & gracias to my beta, TwilightMundi, and to tarasueme, who never hesitates to look over anything I send her. Also, to jjuliebee, who has pimped this story more than anyone I know. I love you, JJ. **

**I'm putting myself back on the auction block for Fandom Gives Back. Details are on my blog at www(dot)mskathy(dot)com – HookaShewz has formed a Team MsKathy and everything! **

**All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is all mine. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.**

**~o~**

_He turns and looks at me, smiling, and then he stops. We're in the hallway and I have no clue what we've stopped for, when he moves his body in front of mine, pressing me against the wall. There's no hurry this time, just slow, casual, dare I say lazy kisses. The kind that say "thank you," and don't need to rush because they know there are thousands more just like it behind them._

Edward leads me to the kitchen and I can see a meal laid out across the counter.

"Dinner?" he offers.

"Yes, please!"

Through my haze of lust and need, I've entirely forgotten the need to eat. The growling of my stomach reminds me, though, and I'm glad Edward has enough common sense left to remember humans require food.

"Just need to pop it back into the oven for a quick reheat," he says, pressing a few buttons on the oven.

"Did you cook?" I ask.

"I've learned to make a few things; enough for us to get by," he says. "Esme often invites us over."

Watching, I pay attention to the lines of his body and the way he moves. He's obviously very comfortable in this kitchen, and that makes me smile. Edward grabs two bowls and portions out what I can now tell is salad. Only, this isn't at all like my version of salad – you know, open bag, dump in bowl, glop on dressing? No, this has beautiful greens, I can see peppers, cherry tomatoes, cucumber, carrots, strawberries, blueberries, and walnuts.

I notice the bowl next to the salad as Edward picks it up, along with a whisk, and brings the dressing back together. He's talking to himself softly the entire time, making notes about the food and its freshness.

"Should be okay," he mutters. "Salad and baked rigatoni good?" When he finishes speaking, he looks up at me and his eyes are so clear, so alive.

"Yeah."

I'm all mono-syllabic, having imagined this elaborate dinner, but being faced with just Edward. His casual comfort with serving me baked pasta and salad is … unimaginable. In the very best of ways.

As we sit at the table, his hand rests on my knee. Looking up, I catch him staring at me, a goofy sixteen-year-old's grin on his face.

"You look very proud of yourself, Cullen," I tease.

"I am. How often do I get this lucky? Beautiful woman in my house, happy kid, great night."

Smiling back at him, I nod and go back to eating my salad. It's like an orgasm in a bowl, and I have to stifle the giggle that wants to erupt at the fact that I'm sitting here with Fucking Cullen, post-orgasm high, eating the best salad of my life. Surreal.

The rest of the meal passes mostly in quiet, our bodies touching in some manner the entire time. Sometimes it's his hand on my knee, or mine on his arm, his lips against mine...

When we're finished eating, he stands and puts our bowls into the sink, having reused our salad bowls for the pasta. Walking me back to his bedroom, he helps me get my dress back on (sadly), and it's like reality is settling back into my bones. I briefly wonder if this is why so many of the Stepfords are on meds – this awful, shitty, lonely reality.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Edward asks, just as I've gotten out the party hats and streamer for my epic pity party.

My usual Saturday bullshit is so mundane, I can't even bring myself to bore him with the details.

"Not much," I say.

His hand moves to caress my face again, and I'm thinking I could really get used to this. Closing my eyes, I soak up as much of him as I can before I have to leave. Being a mother is a fulfilling job, it's just something I never imagined would overtake and consume my entire life.

"I want to see you. Will you have time?"

As he speaks, he's kissing my eyelids, then nose, and cheeks, and moving toward my lips. I'm definitely going to need Chapstick when I get home.

"Yeah," I breathe. "I should. We could take the kids to the pool?"

Might as well make full use of the wax I paid for.

"Yes, that sounds perfect."

We work out the details of where we'll go; I offered to meet at the local rec center's indoor pool, but Edward prefers his snooty gym. Well, the gym or the country club. Since I'm not ready to turn in my Regular Person Card just yet, the gym it is.

"Text me?" I practically beg against his lips.

Our kiss escalates quickly and I want to stomp my foot and pout at the fact that the large grandfather clock in the other room is reminding me that it's far past my own bedtime, never mind our childrens'.

Edward hands me my jacket and helps me put it on, and I really can't help but smile. I'm sad to be leaving, but these small gentlemanly moments give me hope for more.

Opening the door, he takes my hand, and I pause, frozen where I am, exactly one step outside Edward Fucking Cullen's house.

The most beautiful, pristine snow is falling to the ground. The flakes are fat, fluffy, and wet, and right now, it's heaven. Looking around, I see that the surfaces of the expanse between the houses are lightly dusted with it, and everything looks magical. Everything is shimmering in the moonlight, and it feels like the potential is there for all of it. The piles of snow can become snowmen, the hills will be banks for sledding, and me? I can feel the potential building there anew as well.

Positive my cheeks and nose are turning pink in the chilly air, I leap into Edward's arms, laughing. Sure, what I needed was a few good rounds inside that house with him, but what I needed even more is now gently wrapped around me. The hot and hunky man I lusted after for weeks has sort of faded to the background, never gone, that's for damn sure, and the strong, warm man holding me now has surfaced.

The potential is there for him, too, and it only sinks in further and deeper as he kisses me lightly once, then begins to tickle me. _Shit, I hope he doesn't drop me. At least we'd be on the ground again, but a quickie in the snow isn't exactly my idea of a great nightcap._

Trying as hard as I can to not be affected, I let his fingers jab into my ribs and poke around my flabby middle, his need to provoke a reaction clearly growing.

"Aren't you ticklish?" he asks, frustration evident in his voice.

Biting my lip, I just shake my head no. I don't know why I'm even bothering to lie – I'm awful at it. He laughs and again I worry he's going to drop my sorry ass right onto the cement, but his arms are strong and reassuring around me. In more ways than one.

Finally, he sets me down and I realize we're at Esme's back porch. Stealing one last kiss, we compose ourselves as best we can and he opens the door for me. As I enter the room, I notice a man I've never seen before. Older, distinguished, but cold, perhaps? There's some distance, some unease between us that I can't quite put my finger on.

"Ah, Bella Swan, this is my father, Carlisle Cullen. Dad, this is Bella, Rose's mom."

Reaching out to him, I take Carlisle's hand in mine and we shake quickly.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Cullen."

As I'm uttering the words, I have to bite my lip to keep the laugh in, the reminder of my name for Edward making me slightly schoolgirly.

"And you, Miss Swan. I've hardly heard a peep from the kids, but I believe Esme is watching a movie with them in the theater," Carlisle says, his look sweeping from me up to his son, then back to his newspaper.

"Thanks."

Edward's quick answer surprises me, and we're on our way down basement stairs before I can ask questions. I stop short on the last step, not wanting to turn the corner and look at them just yet. This last little peek, last little moment of privacy and grown-up time is mine, and I'm taking it. Turning on my heel, I pull Edward's mouth down to mine for a quick kiss.

My tongue sweeps out into his mouth, along with a quiet moan, and I pray that my puffy, oldass, now broken jacket isn't making too much noise as my hands move to his face. For some reason, I have to fight to stay rational. Fight to keep from saying all of the things my heart wants me to say and share with him. I'm not ready, and neither is the life-sustaining organ pumping away in my chest, even though it seems to disagree.

With a wide smile, I pull away and step down the last step. Our kids are sitting next to each other in huge, leather chairs. The large projector is playing a movie I know has just come out on DVD, and they're sharing a bowl of popcorn between them. Popcorn smell assaults me and for the first time ever in my life, I'm a little sad. I don't want the salty, buttery goodness; I want Edward smell.

"Hey, guys. Did you have fun?" I ask, breaking their movie-induced stupor.

"Mom!" Rose shouts, leaping from her chair to hug me.

I see Emmett roll his eyes and Edward inclines his head at him, some macho display of non-affectionate affection, I guess.

"Ready, Rosie Posie?"

A sharp tug on the ends of my hair alerts me to the fact that Rose obviously does not want me to use her nickname in front of the boys.

"Do we haveta?" she asks, pleading with her sad, but obviously tired, little eyes.

"Yep, it's way past bedtime. But, how about swimming tomorrow?"

Rose jumps and squeals, and I think, _yeah, I feel that way about them, too._

"Mr. Cullen and I will work out the details, but we'll get some fun time in between our usual errands, okay?"

Emmett gets out of his chair to high-five Rose, and the grown-ups laugh.

"Bella, thank you for letting me watch the kids tonight," Esme says, smiling at me with such a genuine expression my heart clenches. She really is the ideal grandma. I'm envious, as I miss my own, who passed on several years ago. "I'd love to watch them anytime." She winks at me, and I giggle. Giggle.

I've been reduced to giggling. I'm not even sure I care, really. Maybe what I need is giggling.

"Thank _you_ for watching them, Esme. I can imagine what a handful these two were."

I'm totally not even kidding, either. Rose can be such a handful, add in another body and brain on her level and I'm exhausted just thinking about it.

Esme looks at me and says, "They keep me young."

Her eyes are dancing in a dangerous way that tells me she's even more delighted about playing Matchmaker with her son. I suddenly realize that I know very little about Edward's family, and although he's given me small details and bits and pieces of his life story, there is so much left to learn.

The thought thrills me.

"Goodnight, Esme, Edward," I say, nodding at them both.

Turning to leave, I realize there's no way I can navigate this maze of a house on my own. As I'm getting ready to ask Edward to help a girl out, his hand is at my elbow. It's not overt, not too boyfriendy, just a guy helping out. Rose is wrapped up in her end-of-the-night conversation with Emmett about the movie and doesn't even notice, so I have no idea why I'm even nervous, but this is just the pleasant effect of Cullen, I guess.

"I'll miss you," he breathes into my ear as the kids walk ahead of us. His body is closer to mine, warming me, and I have no time to reply. My once cold, dead heart clenches a little. I'll miss him too; more than I'm ready to admit to either of us.

Emmett is semi-navigating Rose in front of us, and it's slightly comical to watch them doing almost the same thing we are. I know they're too young to even think about things like that, but it's funny to look at them and wonder _what if._

At the front door, I turn and shake Edward's hand. Sure, it's the goofiest thing I've done lately, but I don't want Rose or Emmett to suspect anything yet. I also flag this topic to return to tomorrow at the pool, because I'm not sure if we're intentionally hiding this from our kids, or if we're both just really awkward around each other now.

Edward's fingertips tickle my palm, and I swoon, swear to god. _I guess we're not as awkward as I thought. _He lets go too soon, but I know it's needed. The door opens, and the ground is soft under our feet. Rose and Emmett each gather snowballs to throw, and Momzilla comes out to play.

"Okay, enough," I say, the cranky at having to leave all of this and go back to my real life settling into my bones. "In the car, please."

Emmett shows the first sign of affection toward his father I've seen: as Rose and I buckle in, he's got his arm wrapped around Edward's waist. It's a small but tender moment. They wait there, on the porch in the snow, no jackets, as we pull away. Even as I'm turning out of his driveway, they're standing there watching, waiting, soaking in as much of us as we are of them. It's then that I realize Rose has turned all the way around in her seat and has been waving out the back window the entire time.

My heart almost breaks.

"Did you have a good time?" I ask, genuinely interested.

Rose is like my life raft at times; it's totally not cool to admit it, but she is probably one of my best friends, even at seven years old. She's smart, funny, and likes a lot of the same things I do. Not because I like them, mind you – but because she genuinely likes them herself. She's not the kind of kid to say she likes something to please me. Oh no, sometimes I can see the conflict that rages in her eyes, _wanting_ to be different from me.

"Yeah, Mom."

Her answer falls short of my expectations, but I know better than to press her. She's probably tired and needs time to digest all of the changing things. I'll ask her again at breakfast and make sure she's really okay spending more time around Emmett.

The rest of the car ride is quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of the radio and my inner dialogue that never stops. When we get home, I help Rose into her pajamas and she climbs into bed without argument, a rarity for her.

By the time I'm in my own PJs and back in my room, my phone is buzzing away on my dresser. I flip it open and smile.

_Good night, Bella. Xoxo_

I send what I hope is a cute reply and crawl under the covers. My sleep is restless, even more tossing and turning than usual, as I let thoughts of Edward and me simmer. Am I ready to bring a man into my life?

Faster than I know it, the sun is rising high in my bedroom and I'm awake again, having no recollection of ever falling asleep. As I make my way to the coffee pot, I try to think about my day. I need to go to Target, the pool, and then... well, I might as well be honest. I want to spend the entire rest of the day with Edward. I'm not sure how realistic that is, though, so I map out other errands and laundry, the highlight of every single person's Saturday, right?

As I'm mixing pancake batter, I feel warm arms wrap around my waist and a head smooshes itself against my ample ass. _At least it's good for something._

"Hey, sweets. Ready for some pancakes?" I ask, like pancakes are manna from heaven. The reality is, my griddle is old and needs to be replaced, and I hate that I'll have to soak and scrub it, but Rose loves pancakes.

Rose whoops and hollers, finally settling down at the table. Once I have a stack cooked, we sit together, eating and talking about the day.

After we've eaten, showered, and dressed, we hit Target, spending only about twice what I had budgeted. Fucking dollar spot.

On the plus side, Edward and I have been texting back and forth the entire time. Somehow, dirty texting makes your wallet draining much more acceptable. I even let Rose get a Littlest Pet Shop, which I'm sure I'll regret after I step on it at during the trek to my bedroom at midnight.

Once we're home, I implore Rose to change into her bathing suit quickly, and do the same in the privacy of my bedroom. Putting on my bikini top, I take an extra second to look in the mirror and make sure my nips are both pointing the same way.

Girls properly in place, I slip on jeans and a sweater and make my way to Rose's room. She's dressed and ready, and we drive to the swank place the Richies like to call the gym. As we drive, I wonder if anyone even sweats inside there.

Like the gentleman he is, Edward is waiting outside for us. We're both bundled up, Rose and I, but the itch to touch and hug Edward is palpable. I can tell he feels the same when he embraces me, and I panic for a moment. This is definitely not in our agreed-upon plan.

Before I can protest, he pulls back and takes my hand in his, leading me to the visitor sign-in forms. After being handed a temporary card, I take Rose back to the women's locker room and feel like an idiot. I haven't worn a bikini in at least a year, what the fuck was I thinking putting it on? There's no time to wallow, though, as Rose is undressed and ready in her suit before I can even pull my pants off. She's literally running laps around the bench that separates the rows of lockers, and I just laugh as I pull my hair back into a ponytail and lock up.

Once we're hand-in-hand, I realize I have no idea where the pool is. I didn't see it on our way in, so I turn to ask what looks like the only normal person in this place. She points and grunts, and just as I'm about to lecture her about politeness, Rose drags me away. Snagging two towels on our way out, I wrap mine around me in my continuing fit of self-consciousness.

"Slow down, don't run!" I say, then realize I sound just like my fucking mother. The thought makes me blanch.

Rose bolts through the door that Snotty has pointed us to, and I see Edward and Emmett semi-splashing at the shallow end of an elaborate pool. On one side is a walk-in shallow end, and the other has covered, spiraling waterslides. At the shallow end, there are a few fountains popping up through the water, and a mushroom that has water raining down on small kids. It's not packed in the pool, but not empty either.

The kids run into the pool, and Edward leads me over to a jacuzzi with a small waterfall. From here, we can still keep an eye on them, but also have privacy. We're the only people in the warm, bubbly water, and I'm glad for it as I drop my towel at the edge.

Stepping in, I grab Edward's hand that he has outstretched to me and settle between his legs. He's strong and warm, his fine hairs tickling my back as we try not to be too obvious in our snuggling.

"I guess we're telling the kids?" I ask.

"I don't know. It still doesn't seem like a great idea. Maybe we should hold off a few more weeks?"

I nod, knowing he's right, but confused by his proximity to me. What he does next takes me even more by surprise: his hands wrap around my waist and pull me even closer to him.

"You are so sexy in this bikini."

His breath is hot against my skin, even compared to the fine spray the bubbles around us are creating. I want to lean back into him and let him work his insane Cullen magic, but then his words really register.

"Oh my God, are you fucking blind?" I ask, half-laughing.

As his fingertips splay over my stomach, the muscles clench involuntarily. He's seriously going to do me in, right here, right now.

"Why would you say that? You are gorgeous."

"Where should we begin? My thighs and ass are not made of steel, not even close. My stomach is flabby, my tits sag. I have freckles in funny places, thanks to too much teenaged suntanning. My-"

Edward bites my earlobe, effectively stopping my speaking. As I groan, he speaks, and I try really hard to listen.

"Your thighs and tits are magnificent, Bella. You don't realize what great shape you're in, and you don't even workout. Your freckles are adorable, and this stomach?" Both hands continue to graze and tease my skin as he speaks. "This is where your most precious gift, your demonseed hellbeast, came from. It's not anywhere near flabby. You have the curves of a real woman that's lived."

Humming, I rest my head back against Edward's shoulder.

Wait a second.

"Demonseed hellbeast?" I laugh, repeating his words.

"Yeah. She's awfully cute for someone spawned from Hell, though."

"What about your demonseed hellbeast?" I ask, almost but not really offended.

"Oh, he's perfect for her. Two minions of Satan, sent to torture us."

We laugh together, but then his hands are roaming again, and I can feel them between my thighs. Carefully, probably so as to not arouse suspicion, he shifts my legs apart and hooks mine outside of his. Just the thought of what he's going to do, anything at all now that I'm opened to his body, has me panting like a dog in heat. I'm that shameless, apparently.

"Edward," I implore.

"I'm just gonna make you feel good, Bella," he reassures me, his voice soft and seductive. "Don't you wanna feel good?"

His teeth nip at my neck and I realize I am thoroughly fucked, even if I'm lacking that particular body part inside of mine.

"Yeah."

Snaking his hand down into my bikini bottoms, I can feel him teasing me. As his fingers glide up and down my lips, just the tips shifting and teasing between, I whimper. It almost seems unfair that I'm having so much fun and he's not, but in this moment, I'm just too greedy to care.

Briefly, I contemplate ducking under the water further so he can touch my breasts, but there's absolutely no way we can do that without raising suspicion. As it is, I'm leaned back against him, eyes closed, moaning like a whore. I'm just thankful we haven't been thrown out yet, and toss out a brief thanks to the universe for allowing us this miraculous moment of privacy.

Edward's fingers focus their attention on my clit, varying his strokes from side-to-side and then up-and-down, and I realize he's talking softly in my ear. He's whispering the things he likes about my body, in fact, and had it been anyone else, I'd have thought they were just snowing me. Edward, however, is entirely genuine. He's listed a few of my scars and even the shape of the parts I hate, turning them from saddlebags to luscious hips and such. Part of me wishes he would just shut up; I'm uncomfortable with anyone paying _this_ much attention to my body, but the greater part of me is enjoying the vibration of his voice through his chest, and the way he's paying me an endless stream of compliments.

Shifting his other hand lower, he snakes it, too, into my bikini bottoms. His fingers circle my entrance and after he pushes two inside of me, I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming as I come. He is so, so good at this.

His voice is low and scratchy as he speaks. "I can't wait to get you to my house again."

All I can do is hum in my post-orgasmic state. Suddenly, the thought occurs to me that I've lost track of Rose, something that _never_ happens at the pool. My eyes fly open and I curse, a little louder than intended.

"Don't worry," Edward reassures me. "There are life guards and I've kept my eyes on them. Well, one eye. Did you enjoy that?"

"Mmm, yes, Edward, thank you. That was fucktabulously good."

We linger, the air quiet between us, for the next few minutes.

"I don't want you to leave," he says softly.

"I don't want to go either. Do you have plans tonight?"

Sighing, he turns me to look at him. "Yeah, I promised Emmett we'd go to the movies. It seems like kind of a father/son thing, you know? I don't know how he'd react to inviting you and Rose."

"It's okay," I say, running my hand along his cheek. He clearly didn't shave this morning, and the stubble tickles my palm, making me smile. "We have lives."

His hand reaches for mine under the water, and he threads our fingers together. Suddenly, I remember something.

"Hey, Rose is with James next weekend," I say, leaving the rest unspoken.

"All weekend?" he asks.

"Yep. She goes Friday around six, and then comes home Sunday night sometime, usually around eight. Depends on what James has planned with his other family."

Groaning, I remind myself to watch my words. Just because it didn't work out with me doesn't mean James isn't entitled to a happy life.

"I don't know," Edward says softly. "Emmett would be suspicious if I had you over the whole weekend, but I might be able to plan a sleepover for him with someone from the class. He's been asking about a playdate with some kid named Ben."

"Ben is very sweet. Good kid. His mom is a little nutty, but aren't we all?"

"Do you have her email?" he asks.

"Dude. Check the class list, Father of the Year," I tease.

He tickles me and I let out a loud yelp, drawing every eye in the enclosed area to us. _Shit._ We part like teenagers caught making out on the couch, and I keep laughing for a good five minutes.

"Mommy, I'm hungry!" Rose whines, having run to the jacuzzi from the pool. Emmett appears right behind her, his eyes pleading to Edward.

"Okay, okay. Can you get lunch?" I ask, turning to Edward.

He nods and we all make our way back to the locker rooms, shower, and meet out in the lobby. After a quick drive down the road, we're wolfing down sandwiches and soup from a fantastic deli, everyone mostly quiet. I can sense the exhaustion running through Rose, having run herself ragged at the pool. Emmett's hair has dried and is spiking up just slightly, making me giggle every time I look at him; it's that same uncontrollable look Edward's hair seems to have.

Full and happy, the kids get into each of our cars, and we're left standing there in awkward silence. Their eyes are on us, curious and big, as we stand, talking.

"I'm sorry, I- I wish I could..."

"Stop, it's fine. Really, Edward. I'll hopefully see you on Friday, and maybe at pickup sometime," I say, winking. "And there's always the phone, you know."

"I know. It just feels like... not enough."

His body is so close to mine now, and I'm torn between reminding him to back off and pulling him closer.

"I know what you mean," I whisper. My eyes meet his and I'm reminded of last night, when he asked me not to break his heart.

Very carefully and very slowly, he leans to kiss my cheek. It's something we can clearly explain away to the kids, but the way he lingers is just for me. His soft lips press to my cheekbone, whispering against the skin briefly before he pulls back.

"Talk to you later?" he asks, opening my door for me.

"Yeah. Absolutely."

I give him my biggest, best smile, because I am so happy right now, I could burst. I never imagined feeling this again. Somehow, Edward has woken feelings I was certain I'd just never feel, never experience, never soak in again. I'm not quite sure how to repay him, but I've got a few methods in mind to try...

-

**A/N2: Oh, Bella. What do you think her methods of repayment might be? Did you like this chapter? I'd love to hear from you, so leave me some nuggets of love in the form of a review, please?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I owe a very large "thank you" to Emibella, whose story, If It's the Beaches, had a scene that sparked something in here. I'll never forget the day someone told me I had to go read the chapter of hers, and they were right – smokin' hot. Chapter 7. UNG. And yes, for you nervous ladies, I did ask her permission before using the concept here. :)**

**Thank you to Squalloogal, for buying me at FGB. This is her last piece, and I am so grateful that she trusted me and allowed me to write for her.**

**Thank you to TwilightMundi, my beta. ILY.**

**More notes later.**

**All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is all mine. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.**

**~o~**

_I give him my biggest, best smile, because I am so happy right now, I could burst. I never imagined feeling this again. Somehow, Edward has woken feelings I was certain I'd just never feel, never experience, never soak in again. I'm not quite sure how to repay him, but I've got a few methods in mind to try..._

I spend the drive home thinking, wondering how I can be in so deep already. The more I think about it, the more I realize I've always been like this, though. I've always given so much of myself so quickly, and the thought startles and sobers me.

Even before I can control it, I feel my walls starting to shift a little higher. I've been in some lust-induced stupor, I decide, letting this man so close to my heart already. My mind and heart war through the drive, and I realize I'm home, having driven on auto-pilot apparently.

Rose and I go inside and spend the rest of the day cleaning and tidying the house. I call Alice at some point to gossip and catch up with her. A glamour-filled life I lead.

When it's closer to bedtime, I make sure Rose showers and gets her hair washed. These last few months she's begun to insist that she's a big girl and doesn't want to take baths anymore. Too damn bad for me, because it was at least twenty minutes of quiet time I could count on. The only positive was that I got to reclaim my tub. In our small house, there was only one decent tub; now that there aren't any tub toys in there anymore, I briefly contemplate a long soak once Rose is in bed.

The thought doesn't last, though, as Rose is tearing through the living room, a naked ball of energy. Inside, I'm screaming and frustrated. Having mastered the Zen art of calm-under-fire parenting, I use my best Disney Princess singsong voice.

"Rosie, hon, let's go get your pajamas on, okay?"

"I don't wanna go to bed, Mom," she says, lapping me again as I stand in place. "Will you read with me?"

"Yes, I'll read with you, if you agree to lights out bedtime after thirty minutes."

"Deal," she shouts, tearing off in the direction of her room.

Grabbing my cell phone, I follow close behind. I can multi-task and only feel marginally guilty, I decide. I text Edward.

_Whatcha doin? :)_

Tucking Rose in, I snuggle beside her, above the covers. She's re-reading a book that's worn and frayed at the edges, but one of her favorites. Smiling, I check my phone. Technically, I'm reading texts, right?

_Trying to wrangle Em._

God, I still can't imagine that he does this every minute, every day, every week, all alone. I guess he has Esme and Carlisle, but still. My chest constricts as I realize that he's been alone, really and truly alone, just as long as I have.

_I hear bribery works; it's what we're doing here. Reading time before bed, some time to settle down?_

I might as well take a chance, right? Maybe he doesn't know this trick. I know Emmett loves to read as much as Rose, because they're constantly talking about books. And science. They're adorably nerdy, and so compatible when they stop being such assholes to each other.

My phone stays still and silent on my chest as I read, and I begin to worry I've overstepped my bounds with Edward. Finally, reading time is over and it's lights out for kiddo, post toothbrushing and one last potty trip. I hug and kiss her, tucking the blankets around her, and remind her that it's not time to ask for more water, or another story, or a dog, or... anything.

"Just sleep, baby. I'll see you in the morning," I beg.

"Mom, what's a DILF?"

_What the mother fuck?_

"What?" I ask, needing to make sure I heard her correctly.

"I heard you on the phone with Auntie Alice. You called Mr. Cullen a DILF. What's a DILF?"

Fan-fucking-tastic.

I'm forced to think on my feet, never a good thing.

"A..." I'm searching my brain for words that will fit... "Oh, a DILF is a dad I'd like to be friends with."

The smug smile overtakes my face and I'm feeling pretty proud of myself as I close the door and implore her to sleep.

Tiptoeing back to the living room, I fall onto the couch. It's old, but comfortable, and I wrap myself in the throw there. Suddenly, Edward's scent assaults me and I'm reminded of making out with him. Giggling, I wrap myself up in it, and close my eyes.

The slight vibration of my phone, still in my hand apparently, wakes me. It's dark and I stretch first, deciding to walk to my actual bed before I look to see what's waiting for me, my paranoia still rampant. If Edward's going to tell me to back the fuck off, better to be snuggled into bed.

_Can you talk? Em is finally asleep._

Instead of texting him back, I dial. Well, no one dials anymore – I punch in his name and press send.

"Hey." His voice is soft, but scratchy. Undeniably sexy.

"Hey." Mine, on the other hand, is so fucking lame. What am I, twelve?

"Some nights, I really think he's never going to go to sleep," he says. I glance at the clock and am stunned to see it's past ten.

"He just NOW went to bed?" I ask, stifling a yawn.

"Yeah. Did I wake you? You sound tired."

"It was a long day. I mean, I had this sexy man all to myself for part of the day, but the rest was utter shit."

"Sorry to hear that. Anything in particular?" he asks.

"Motherhood," I quip.

"I can relate," he says with a little laugh. "Busy tomorrow?"

Humming, I try to recall my schedule. It's not so easy this late, this tired.

"I don't think we're too busy." I drop my voice, trying to be sexy. "You have something in mind, stud?"

"Ugh, don't tease, baby."

Hey, it worked?

"I'd never tease. I always follow through, it just may be awhile..."

His sigh is loud and I almost have to move the phone from my ear.

"I'm sorry, Edward. I didn't mean to be too big of a tease."

"It's okay, it's just … It's been a long time since I've felt this way. I just had to shut _that side_ of myself off all these years, you know?"

Hell yes, I know.

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. It's like the moment they're born, the entire world shifts, good and bad."

I can almost see him nodding.

"Exactly. And after Tanya-" He pauses, and everything is utterly still and quiet. "After Tanya left, everything fell to me. Esme and Carlisle help, but at the end of the day, I'm Dad."

"I can't even imagine, Edward."

Suddenly, an awkward silence overtakes our call. We've run the gambit of topics and now we're sort of stuck on this one, neither of us really knowing how to navigate our way out of the potential emo stretching out in front of us.

"Sorry," he says softly. "I didn't mean to drag the conversation down."

"Hey," I scold, my voice slightly tight. "This is your life. I want this part, too."

Even as the words escape my mouth, I realize they're true. I want Edward, good and bad.

Awkward silence returns, and I realize we never settled our plans for tomorrow.

"It's supposed to dump snow tonight," I say. "Wanna go sledding tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I'd really like that."

I can hear his smile, and it makes me glad to know that he's not getting sucked down into a spiral of depression over the reminder of Tanya.

"Alright, old man, I gotta get some sleep. What time do you want to go?"

"How about you come over here in the morning, say ten? We can sled in the backyard and then have cocoa and lunch."

I'm a sucker for cocoa.

"With marshmallows?" I ask.

This is like, almost a deal breaker for me.

"Pshaw. What kind of a host would invite someone over for cocoa with no marshmallows?"

Whew.

"Good. See you at ten. Goodnight, Edward."

"Night, Bella."

I plug my phone in, get under the covers, and promptly do not go to sleep. My brain is racing with thoughts of Edward, and Edward with Tanya. After I've tossed and turned enough to be twisted in the sheets and blankets, I get up for water. I'm being so stupid, and even I know it, but I decide that the root of my issue is just a lack of knowledge. Once I know more about her, I'll be able to rest easier.

Right?

Crawling back into bed, I close my eyes and imagine what she might've looked like. I feminize Emmett's face, then add it onto a smokin' body. _Fuck._ The temptation to compare us is huge, and I resort to a few meditation breathing methods I've learned over the years to try and calm my mind.

Rose curls up in bed with me at some hour, the sun not having risen in the sky yet. I fell asleep before setting my alarm because I figured Demonseed Hellbeast (yes, I've mentally stolen the nickname for her) would wake me bright and early. As I begin to wake and stir, I realize it's not as early as I'd hoped. Then I look at the clock. Great. We've both slept so late that we'll have to rush now.

Filling Rose in on our plans for the day, she gives me a scrunched-eyebrow look, hands on her hips.

"We're going to Emmett's house?"

"Yeah," I reply.

"To sled?"

"Uh huh."

I'm frantically buzzing around her room, trying to find her ski bib, snow boots, and all the fucking winter clothes I hate. When I glance up, I see Rose still looking at me with that skeptical expression.

"What?!" I shout, frustrated.

"Simmer, Mom."

She walks away, and I collapse onto the floor, a fit of giggles overtaking my stressed body. Five minutes later, I'm composed and back in Momzilla mode. Everyone is dressed and ready, or as ready as we can be, and we're in the car. I've texted Edward to let him know we'll be slightly late, and he tells me to drive safely and take my time. Sure enough, as predicted, there's an assload of fresh snow outside.

The drive to Edward's reminds me of our difference in income and lifestyle, and I just have to laugh. We finally pull into his drive, and when Emmett answers the door, he's a little snippy.

"Finally!"

"Hello, Emmett. It's nice to see you again, too," I say.

Rose grabs his hand and drags him away before she's even got her coat off, shedding her clothes like snakeskin, forming a path to his room, or, well... wherever they're off to.

"My dad is such a freak. He was all in a panic this morning trying to find marshmallows," Emmett half-whispers as they leave reasonable eavesdropping distance.

This detail does not escape me, and I smile. Edward's been frantic, searching for marshmallows, for me. Just as the birds are chirping in my head, he slides behind me. Too bad I have nine hundred layers of clothes on, I can't even feel the warmth from his body.

"Good morning," he says.

"It is now," I say, all of the words coming out as a sigh.

I am so fucking gone for this guy.

"I can't even get to your neck with all this insane gear on. It's not the Tundra, Bella," he teases.

"It's so cold! How can you stand it?"

I'm serious; if it wasn't for James, I'd have moved somewhere warmer by now.

"Well," he says, taking my hand. "It does lend itself nicely to roaring fires and cocoa?" he suggests.

"Aw man, but the cocoa is for after," I whine.

"Why, Bella Swan, are you implying something?"

Oh my god, he bats his fucking eyelashes like a chick, and I can't help the barking laugh.

"After _sledding_, you slut. But admit it, you wish it was more..."

_Please, please admit it._

"You're fucking right about that," he says, leaning in to kiss me.

The bluebirds are back, probably nesting in my damn hair. His hands make their way under my knit hat, and they're so warm against my cold skin, I moan. Loud running interrupts us as we back away a respectable distance from each other. _Fuck._

"Mom, are we sledding or what?" Rose asks.

"Yes, but if you wanted to sled, you need to bundle back up."

"You too, Emmett," Edward adds.

"You too, Edward," I say, tongue sticking out at him from between my upturned lips. The kids laugh and Edward heads to grab his jacket, I assume.

We spend at least an hour outside, playing. Aside from the date at Edward's, it's the most fun I can recall having in the last few years. We sled, we throw snowballs, we make snow angels, and Edward and I sneak kisses and touches every single time we think the kids are distracted. It's thrilling and intensely frustrating.

After cocoa, we make sandwiches and eat in the living room, in front of the fireplace. It's not my romantic ideal with my hunky man, but this is a close second. For right now, our families are meshing. I can't ask for more.

Well, I can, but later.

Dinnertime sneaks up on us, and Edward explains that Sunday means dinner at Esme's. He invites Rose and me, but it's not time yet. After another replay of our parting of ways from last night, we leave. This time feels even worse, though, because we have no plans to see each other again until Friday.

Rose makes her Sunday night call to James, the one she makes when she's not spent the weekend with him, and they confirm their plans for the following weekend. He's not seeing her during the week this week, some lame excuse again. I've given up keeping track of them.

As we eat together at the table, we talk about the past week, and the week ahead. I think she says the name "Emmett" at least twenty times, going on and on about him.

Lying in bed with her a few hours later, I'm running my fingertips through her hair, my motherly attempt to soothe and calm her. We say goodnight, and I swap a few texts with Cullen before I collapse into bed, exhausted and not looking forward to work.

Mornings are awful, and this one is no exception as we run around the next day. Mondays suck, period. There's no way to make them better, you just have to accept it and move on. Once Rose is at school, I sneak through the Starbucks drive-thru, then feel fortified enough to face my boss.

Once I've pretended to work for a decent amount of time, I email Alice to get her opinion on clothes for my Friday night sleepover. I'm not surprised when my phone rings not five minutes later. Positive it's Alice, I answer.

"That was fast. Did you even look at what I sent?"

"Uh... Ms. Swan?"

It's not even noon on a Monday, are you kidding me with this shit, Mrs. Snarky? What kind of trouble could my kid be in already?

"I'm sorry," I say, flipping my phone to look at the display. Sure enough, school. "How can I help you, Mrs. Cope?"

"I need you to come into my office, Ms. Swan. Today."

Oh fuck. The tone of her voice leaves no wiggle room.

"Okay. What time?" Suddenly, I'm turned into Jell-O and all of my assertive parent bullshit is gone.

"Come in before pickup; two o'clock."

Mrs. Snarky hangs up before I can even fucking confirm, and I'm peeved. I'm also left to stew all god damn day about what she might want.

Finally, I'm out the door and on my way to school. Did Rose hit someone? Christ, I can't even imagine. Walking into the fancy building, the receptionist gives me a curt nod.

"Have a seat. She'll be right with you," is all she offers me before turning back to her work.

It takes mere moments before Snarky is fetching me, beckoning me to her office with just a hand gesture. I've got one for her...

Sitting, she gives me a hard glare. It's like we're at the O.K. Corral, and I swear, my forehead starts to bead with sweat.

"What is it?" I finally ask.

"Ms. Swan, we don't tolerate the use of slang and foul language at this school. We pride ourselves on well-groomed, well-educated, and well-behaved children."

I bite my tongue and hold in the laugh. Has she walked this campus lately? I've seen the kids that go here, the girls that roll their uniform skirts in upper school, the snot-nosed kids in the nursery program. But what does this have to do with Rose?

"Okay..." I say, trailing off and motioning my hands for her to fill me the fuck in.

"Today, in the middle of a class assembly, Rosalie asked me if there were a lot of DILFs at this school. Not just me, mind you. We were having Class One time, and she got up in front of the entire class, asking on the mic."

_Nice. See, Bella? See where lying gets you?_

"Mrs. Cope," I say, going for nice and polite. "I apologize. I assure you, Rose thinks a DILF is, well, not what you think. She overheard the word," I omit that it was me she overheard using it, "and I lied and gave her an alternate version. I told her it was a dad I'd like to be friends with."

A few heartbeats pass, and I try to gauge if this is my final straw. Is this the day I get my kid kicked out of this school?

"Make sure it doesn't happen again, Ms. Swan."

Snark dismisses me with another wave of her hand, and I thank my fucking lucky stars. I'm so relieved, I take Rose out to dinner. I also explain, in depth, that "DILF" isn't a word we use at school. When she asks why, I lie.

Edward has hardly texted me, which is good and bad. My natural instinct is to think this means he wants to bail. Maybe he's having regrets, but what he has texted me has been sweet and bordering on sexy, so it's probably just me being silly.

Thankfully, Rose doesn't put up a bedtime fight and she's down and out like a light in record time. I change into my flannel pajamas and curl up on the couch. A few texts later, I'm asleep in a smile-filled Edward haze.

Minus the trip to the principal, this day repeats itself on Tuesday. One small difference is that Edward appears at pickup. He doesn't immediately approach me; instead, he stands off to my side. I only know this because when I do turn and see him there, he laughs.

"I've been standing here for five minutes," he complains. "Don't you ever look around you?"

I'm sure I've turned five shades of red.

"Bad habit. I get very wrapped up in my head. Besides, where's your usual trail of PTA skanks?" I poke right back at him.

It's his turn to blush, and as if they have fucking SONAR hearing, Cuntywife comes up. Christ, could her tits be more perky?

"Jessica," I say with a curt nod. She might not acknowledge me, but I'm not going to play the class game with her.

As she lets go of Edward, she looks at me like I have two heads.

"Edward, how are you, honey?"

Wait a fucking second. Did she just call my … my … Edward "honey"?

The glare I give her rivals the one I often give Snarky when her back is to me. I turn to face Edward, waiting not-so-patiently to see how he's going to respond to her. We're not exclusive, we're not committed, so he owes me nothing, but my heart still clenches.

"I'm good, Jessica," he says, pulling back from her a little more. "How's Mike?"

Ugh. Just the mention of her vile husband almost makes me vomit. Just when I thought Cuntywife was as obnoxious as one could get, I met her husband one day. Terrible combover, terrible breath, terrible behavior.

Her face contorts and she realizes she's not getting anywhere with Edward today, so she wanders away after a few minutes of conversation. Naturally, I've mentally checked out and am staring at the clouds again, wondering when the next dumping of snow will hit, when I feel him closer to me, all warm, and good-smelling.

I've somehow forgotten how good Cullen looks in his work clothes, the crisp suit and tie doing everything for his body, even underneath his thick, wool winter coat. We exchange awkward smiles, and I realize something.

"Hey, Cullen... what the hell do you do, anyway?"

"I'm a hospital administrator, Bella. And you?"

I have no idea what a hospital administrator does.

"Legal secretary," I answer, although it feels so inadequate.

I wanted to go to law school. I wanted to open my own practice and fight for people. I wanted so many things.

The air between us, even with the weight of my thoughts, is thick with the best kind of tension. We're flirting with our eyes as we talk, his body inclining ever-so-slightly toward mine, and my body responds even without my permission. _Is it Friday yet?_

Shrill voices break us from our moment of enchantment, and for once, it isn't the Stepfords, but the kids. Edward walks to his car beside me, his arm grazing mine. I can't tell if he's teasing me on purpose or if he just feels the draw like I do, and I decide I don't care; I want it, either way.

We separate and he winks at me as he opens Emmett's door. My heart picks up, and I laugh, shaking my head.

The rest of my night is boring in comparison, right until Edward calls. We have a nice conversation, but it's too short. Reality is invading our time again, and it pisses me off.

Wednesday is my half-day at work, so I'm at pickup a little early. I spot Esme, and wander over to chat with her.

"How are you, Bella?" she asks, a grin on her face.

"I'm good, Esme. How are you?"

"Old," she laughs.

We stand quietly until she turns to me again. "Edward was going to ask Ben for a sleepover on Friday, but I don't think he has. Do you know his mom?"

"Oh, yes! He was supposed to email her," I say, rolling my eyes. "She's right there," I point, "Mrs. Cheney. Very nice."

"Thanks, dear."

Esme smiles and wanders over to Ben's mom. I watch as they chat, and wonder if Esme can pull off a last-minute sleepover. I really, really need her to. I mean, I'm sure Emmett needs to be around other kids, too.

In a move so clearly reminiscent of Edward, Esme notices me as I'm walking to my car and winks, a small nod of her head telling me she's secured the sleepover. I give her a little fistpump and she laughs, my intended reaction.

Edward is back at pickup the next day, and my breath hitches just seeing him. The weather has been clear for a few days, and he's just looking scrumptious. It's my turn to surprise him as I walk up and stand slightly behind him, what I'm hoping is just out of his peripheral vision. He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, in a slightly scary move, and I wonder what the fuck he's doing.

"You smell so good," he says quietly.

"I do, huh?"

"Stop. Just... don't. I can't take it today."

"Hard day?"

Turning to look at me, his eyes are pleading. "What did I just say?" he says, eyes wide.

_Oh._

"Sorry, I didn't realize … I mean, yeah. Um."

I'm stumbling over my words and shuffling my feet, unsure of myself.

"It was exhausting," he supplies.

His eyes confirm he's telling the truth, and suddenly the fewer texts make sense. I want to reach out and soothe his eyes, touch his face, kiss his lips. The urge to try and take away his pain consumes me, but I stop just short, one step away from him, conscious of the gaggle of gossiping whores around us.

"We still on for tomorrow?" I ask, hopeful that he can sense everything I'm implying.

No, I'm not exactly planning a night of seduction, but I do want several hours of Edward, uninterrupted. I want to touch him and not worry about the eyes on us at school, or kiss him and not worry about a kid walking in on us, and mostly, I want to get to know so much more about him.

"Yes," he says almost in a sigh. "I'm looking forward to it. Are you coming over after Rose is picked up? Emmett's leaving school with Mrs. Cheney, so I'll be ready as soon as I can get out of work."

"Yeah, I can do that. Did you let the teacher know that Mrs. Cheney's picking Em up?"

He shakes his head no, and I realize maybe Emmett hasn't ever had a playdate at someone else's house.

"Esme usually does that," he explains. "Thanks for the reminder."

_Oh._

The kids flood out from the building and we're separated as he talks to the teacher. Rose and I have to run, and I don't want to stand around looking obvious, so I wander away. As I open my car door, I look his direction again in hopes I can at least nod a goodbye. No such luck; he's still talking to the teacher.

We do our usual texting routine, and I fall asleep thinking up questions to ask him and topics I want to talk about.

Friday morning, I'm wide awake and eager. My overnight bag is packed, my body is shaved, plucked, and waxed as needed, and I feel good. Taking extra time after James picks up Rose to change into something sexier than my standard workwear, I make a mental note to try and buy a few new pieces of lingerie soon. I might not have planned a night of seduction, but that doesn't mean I don't want one.

The drive to Edward's feels like it takes forever, but the snow is slowing everything down. Finally, I'm here, and ready. As I walk around to get my bag from the trunk, I feel Edward behind me. His body presses mine into the cold of the car, and I yelp.

"Let me help you with that," he says as he reaches in and grabs my things. Before he moves away, he nuzzles his nose against my neck then gives me a playful bite. "Inside, please."

He closes the trunk, his hand takes mine, and I follow. Inside, he at least lets me get my coat off this time. I giggle at the reminder of our first night together, and he catches me.

"I know. I can't walk inside without thinking about it, too," he says. "Do you know what kind of torture that is? Every time I come home, I think of you underneath me."

How is it that I'm warmer now, with my jacket off? I have no time to contemplate it before Edward's leading me to the living room.

"I don't want that to happen again, at least not today," he says with a laugh. "Best we head to safer territory."

When we're in his living room, he sits in a huge, plush chair in front of the fireplace, and guides me to sit next to him. Slightly defiantly, I sit in his lap. One of my arms is up and around his neck, my legs across the arm of the chair on the other side, laughing. Edward takes a quick look down my legs, his hand following his eye, and then unbuckles and removes each of my shoes. They fall to the floor without a second thought.

Bending down to reach me, his lips are soft and gentle on mine. Smiling, I relax in his arms. This is what I've waited for all week, and it's so fucking worth it. His big hands are warm and comforting as they wrap around me and pull me slightly closer. We're awkward like this, but there's no chance in Hell I'm moving. If I straddle him, which would be far more comfortable, I know we'll just move forward too fast.

Edward's lips are so soft compared to mine. The sounds of our lips against each other, our mouths kissing sweetly, and our breathing in the room, is delightful. I can hear the fireplace as well, the occasional crackle of the wood burning, but what I care about and focus on more, are Edward's noises. He's adorable with his whimpers, hums, moans, and grunts. He's not holding back, and that is the sexiest thing ever.

A long, low sigh leaves his mouth, and I notice he's slowing down. He can't be out of steam yet, we haven't even gotten our hands involved, but he's dropped back to just soft pecks and nibbles at my lips.

"Hungry?"

Oh, right. Food. I nod.

Picking me up so he can stand, I realize he's even stronger than I've ever given him credit for.

Once he's set me back down, he wanders off to what I assume is the kitchen. I wait, watching the fire, thinking about his life. Hearing him before I see him, I smile. He slides a tray between the two seats, and I look over to see an near feast of edibles, a bottle of wine, and two glasses. There are olives, cheese cubes, bread chunks, foil-wrapped chocolate squares, and green grapes.

Instead of taking the chair next to me as I expect, he sits at my feet. His eyes are so bright and alive, but there's still a strange hint of sad and tired there, too.

For the first time, I notice there's a blanket spread out on the ground, and Edward motions for me to sit on it with him.

"This all looks delicious," I say, and reach for a cheese cube.

His hand stops mine before I can grab it, and he pulls them both into his lap.

"No feeding yourself tonight, is the only rule."

"That goes for both of us, I assume?" I ask.

Smiling, he simply nods his reply. I lick my lips and eye the food.

"What do you want?" My words have a double meaning, and Edward laughs.

"For now? A grape, please."

As I pluck a bright green grape from the stems, he opens his mouth. I'm glad I'm sitting, because my knees go weak with the sight before me. Moving my fingers to his mouth, I watch as he closes his lips around them, sucking the grape from between the tips before I have a chance to let go.

_Jesus God._ He expects us to get through feeding each other all of this food?

We feed each other bites, take gulping drinks of wine, and I start to feel more playful. I put a piece of chocolate, warmed from the fire, between my lips. Edward looks at me with a raised eyebrow, as if calling me on breaking the rules. My mouth widens into a smile and I lean toward him. His mouth opens and captures my lips as they meet his. The combination of Edward, the chocolate, the heat, the wine...

Climbing into his lap, I practically attack him. Our lips are messy, the chocolate melting between them and getting all over our mouths. We're laughing and touching and so ready for each other. His hands are at my breasts, and while my dress is thin, the stupid bra I put on is way too padded and I can't feel him like I want to. Straddling his lap, I sit up and pull my dress off in one movement. I'm honestly too tipsy to even think about being self-conscious, but the way he looks at me erases every doubt I've ever had.

Edward looks hungry, lusty, and greedy. I think I'm going to like Greedy Edward. The thought that I'm supposed to be the one providing a nice experience, in repayment for the previous weekend at the gym, flies through my brain, then escapes and is out of my mind in the blink of an eye.

Before I can take my bra and panties off, Edward pushes up, sitting with me. His hands are in my hair, gripping and tugging, perfect and sure. There are muttered obscenities, and I'm not even sure if it's him saying them or me. I don't really even care, as long as we keep going just like this, making out and touching each other.

Removing my bra, his hands slide under the fabric and then around. Swiping his thumbs along the underside of my breasts, he elicits a moan and my body arches toward him, seeking more. _More, more, more_, I'm thinking in my head. He always makes me want more, I realize.

"Lay back," he says quietly.

I think about protesting, but stop myself. I am putty in his hands, again. Still.

As I move down, he pulls my bra all the way off, sneaky bastard. We shift around awkwardly for a minute as I move my legs and lay back. His intense gaze doesn't make me feel uncomfortable this time; instead, I'm just really, really turned on. I smile softly at him, and he returns it before leaning forward, toward my body.

Putting my hand up, I stop him. I want his clothes off; I need to feel his body against mine this time.

"Clothes, baby," I say, and then giggle, because I can hear the fine line of tipsy I'm walking when I speak. I'm not slurring, not beyond controlling myself or making decisions, I'm just really, delightfully buzzed.

Edward laughs too, and stands to take his clothes off. He takes the t-shirt over his head and drops it down on my face, still laughing. Before I move it, I take a stalker-like inhale of his scent. By the time I move the shirt off my face, Edward is down to his boxers. God, the way they hug his thighs is sinful, and I can see his cock already. Sitting up, I reach out for him, but he shakes his head at me.

"Lay back down."

Doing my best to roll back down gracefully, I look up at him, hovering over me still. I'm trying to control the idiotic noises in my head, a symphony of "mmm" and "ung" and "NOW PLEASE".

"Close your eyes," he says.

Just when I thought he couldn't get me hotter. I comply and close my eyes. Hearing crinkly noises, I assume he's unwrapping a condom. A condom. Shit. It occurs to me that we didn't use a condom last weekend.

As my brain rolls that thought around, I'm distracted by Edward's hands at my hips. My panties are pulled down and away from my body, and I wait to feel him between my legs again. Shifting, I pull my knees up and bend them, feet flat on the floor.

Edward hums low, and I feel like the sound vibrates right through my body. "Look at you, so gluttonous and ready." His words make me want to squirm, press against him. He's right; guilty as charged.

"Not yet, though. Not yet."

He's humming again, and I can feel his hands closer to my body, then warmth and wetness at my breast. I think it's his mouth, until he actually does wrap his mouth around my nipple. Feeling his lips on my skin, his tongue lapping, I think I might go insane. More vibrating hums, stronger sucking, and I can hear myself moaning.

Feeling the path of whatever it is he has shift and move down my body, my eyes fly open. He's got one of the chocolate squares between his fingers, practically painting my body in the soft, melted chocolate. Inhaling sharply as he crosses my abdomen, I fear he's going to take that blissful little square too low and give me the world's nastiest yeast infection. That's not the kind of parting gift I want to go home with.

"Edward..."

"Shh," he encourages.

Okay. I decide to go with it, let myself enjoy, and I'll speak up if he gets too close.

Just as he takes the chocolate and traces the top of my mound, he changes directions and heads back up my body. He completes what feels like a circuit, having drawn all around my body. I don't know why, but I'm taken by surprise as he begins to lick and suck along the chocolate path. By the time he's done with one nipple and making his way lower, I'm already a moaning, panting mess.

I swear, he licks across the top of my mound to get the chocolate, and I want to grab his hair and press him the slight bit lower, cooch drama be damned. Instead, I curse and feel his tongue make several swiping paths back and forth. He's placing open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin there, sucking and then licking once the skin is in his mouth. When he returns back to soft, sweet licks, on purpose or accident I have no idea, the very tip of his tongue slips quickly against my clit, and I realize this really is the best kind of torture there is.

Edward moves his mouth back up, thankfully, and as he captures my other nipple between his lips, I do finally wrap my hands into his hair. My hips press up into his, and I am reminded of the fact that we need either a condom or a few questions answered.

"Fuck. Edward..." I pause to breathe. Pressing my lips to his neck, now that he's got his head level with mine, I continue. "You're killing me in the best way possible, but Edward, condom?"

All movement ceases, as if Edward has completely forgotten the rules of being with someone new, too.

"Oh."

He pulls back to look at me.

"I don't have any. You're not... Are you on..."

"No, I've got an IUD, but..."

"Bella, I don't have any STDs. Don't you think I'd have told you?"

I'm glad he's sort of laughing as he says it, because the potential for a really awful misunderstanding or hurt feelings is huge in this moment.

"Yes, of course. And I have nothing to worry about. I mean, not that you gave me a chance to tell you much before last weekend," I say.

"Good."

As he says the word, his mouth is back on my skin, everywhere at once. His fingers are playing me, touching me where I've wanted and needed him all night, and I can't even think as they dip into me. _Fuck._ He's so good at everything and anything he does to me.

His breath is hot against my ear, his body still hovering over mine as his fingers tease and bring me to new heights. "God, you are so fucking sexy like this."

Somehow, the words combined with his actions spiral me into my orgasm. I'm clawing at him, whimpering and moaning, holding in the loudest scream of my life as I feel my body tighten and release around him.

Before I can even think of recovering, of speaking, of doing anything, he's pulling my legs up and thrusting into me. He's not hurting me or being aggressive; he's confident in the precision with which he moves. And, oh dear God, he really has earned that confidence. The angle he has my legs, resting against his chest, and the way he's pushing into me... I'm already heading into my next orgasm. I'm not even sure, actually, that I left the first one behind. It's all a haze of bliss at this point.

Hearing him talk, the obscenities coming from his mouth are so hot. One of his hands leaves my legs and cups my breast, teasing and pulling at my nipple as he continues to thrust into me. My own hands are all over his body, scratching and pulling him closer, to no avail. We're as close as we can get, and that pisses me off, to some degree. The next time we do this, I want to be on top so I can just get my body right next to his.

Picking up his pace, he's hitting harder, faster, deeper, and I fall again. My eyes are closed, my head is moving side-to-side like a possessed woman, and I just want to suspend my body in this pleasure. A few moments later, I can hear him grinding out words through his teeth, his body slowing and then stopping as he rides out his own orgasm.

In contrast to the frantic and needy moment before, he pulls back from me slowly, kissing each of my calves. His hands rub soothing circles on my muscles, and I can't be bothered to open my eyes yet. Right where I am is warm and happy, the fire still smoldering, Edward settling into my side. My head turns to him and we kiss softly, carefully.

I haven't learned much more about him, but decide we have all morning to talk. I realize I'm so in love with this man beside me. I couldn't deny it if I wanted to, and that is such a foreign concept to me. I've always been able to guard my heart, protect myself, but I can't with Edward. I'm incapable of hiding, incapable of holding back, and he seems to be in the exact same predicament.

The last thing I hear before I fall deep asleep is Edward's contented hum and whispered thanks against the top of my head. At some point in the night, he has clearly dug through my bag and wakes me to put my nightgown on and follow him to bed.

In my most romantic and wild fantasies, I never could have imagined the feeling I have as I lay with him, drifting back to sleep in his arms. His bed is fucking huge, unimaginably comfortable, and it's as if this is where I've been headed my entire life. Nothing has fit like this, or made sense like this, ever. I push the thought to the back of my head, saving my nervous breakdown and re-analysis of my entire failed marriage for a more suitable time, and succumb to sleep.

**A/N2: This story will now go back on hiatus *sadface* until the rest of my in-progress stories are completed. You can always check my blog (mskathy (dot) com) for updates on where I am in my writing!**


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